“No trouble.”
His hand went out instinctively, but he withdrew it before it obeyed that impulse.
“I like to do things for you, Dot, if you'll let me,” he explained. “It’s really the only fun I get out of life— doing things for people.”
Dorothy wasn’t impressed by the speech, but she admitted a sense of gratitude.
“If you’ve got a sheet of writing paper,” he continued, “T’ll fix up a note for you right now.”
She led him to the desk.
“Oh, you can look on,” he said, although she had shown no symptoms of withdrawing while he was composing.
Tommy’s unique if not altogether legible script produced a letter:
Dear Mr. FLEMING:
You'll recall me from our interview on why beginners don’t captivate critics and like matters.
I’m taking the liberty of introducing Miss Dorothy Reitz Loamford, who, I think, has unusual promise as a chanteuse. She'll be grateful for any advice you may see fit to give her— and, unlike the beginners we discussed, she'll listen to an expert. And, of course, I’ll be grateful, too!
Yours faithfully, Thomas A. Borge.
“How’s that?”
“That’s lovely of you, Tommy. And such a clever letter, too!”
Tommy inscribed an envelope, “Introducing Miss Dorothy Reitz Loamford.”
“If that doesn’t bring results,” he announced, as he slipped the sheet into the envelope, “we'll try something else that will!”
Dorothy placed the letter in the drawer of the desk.
“And please let me know how it works out,” he asked.
[84]
